(Author's Note: Cross-posting this here to escape the other kinkmeme) ____________________________________________________________________________
The first thing he does when those cell doors open is run right past Cap and head for the hallway where he last saw the guards dragging off a bound and collared Wanda.
Five days they have been locked up, and he hasn’t heard anything from the girl since her last frightened scream of his name.
Unconscious guards litter the halls – Steve having already made his way through – and Clint jumps the bodies without slowing his pace as he finds an elevator and goes down a floor, not bothering to wait for backup. When the doors open, he darts down the hall, punching out the first guard he sees before the young man has a chance to register what’s going on. Clint pulls the gun from the guard’s belt, turning in the same movement to pistol-whip a second guard as he comes around the corner, and then he’s in another cell block.
It takes him a long second to spot her, tucked up between the little cot and the wall in the back corner of her cell. She doesn’t look up, not even when he shoots the control panel out to open the doors, and he feels a sickening cocktail of fear and worry coiling in his lower stomach as he runs to her side.
Clint catches her face in his hands, murmuring her name over and over as he tries to get her eyes to focus on him.
He did this. He got her into this. He let her get caught, advised her not to fight when they got arrested. He should have told her to run, should have told her to keep fighting, they wouldn’t have stood a chance against her, but he didn’t, and now...
“Clint…?” she whispers after a few seconds, blinking hard, and he pulls her into a crushing embrace as he lets out a breath in relief.
He’d been terrified of what they would do to her, with the lot of them as prisoners and her all but helpless. Ross had a bit of a reputation when it came to enhanced beings, after all. Unethical experimentation was something that he wouldn’t put past the man.
She isn’t looking too good, but anything is better than the awful pictures his mind had spent the past few days conjuring of her: pale and powerless and drugged unconscious, strapped down to an operation table as they prepared to cut her open.
Clint presses a gentle kiss to her forehead as she gasps in a trembling breath.
“I’m here. You’re safe now, Wanda, I’ve got you.”
It takes him a long moment to get the straitjacket off of her, and by then the others have made their way downstairs to the high-security cells. He watches nervously as Scott de-activates the collar, and snatches Wanda up in another hug the second it falls free, feeling his throat choke closed with emotion as the little witch sobs in relief, clinging to him like a lifeline.
“Come on,” Steve says gently, “let’s get out of here.”
Wanda is trembling against him, and Clint doesn’t bother trying to coax her to her feet as Steve leads the way. He simply sweeps her up into his arms like the child he can’t help but see her as, and carries her to their waiting jet, cradled against his chest.
As they board the aircraft, he swears to himself that he won’t let anyone hurt her ever again.
He doesn’t let himself think about how much of a lie that probably is.
FILL: After The War (1/?) (What Clint is up to post-Civil-War)
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The first thing he does when those cell doors open is run right past Cap and head for the hallway where he last saw the guards dragging off a bound and collared Wanda.
Five days they have been locked up, and he hasn’t heard anything from the girl since her last frightened scream of his name.
Unconscious guards litter the halls – Steve having already made his way through – and Clint jumps the bodies without slowing his pace as he finds an elevator and goes down a floor, not bothering to wait for backup. When the doors open, he darts down the hall, punching out the first guard he sees before the young man has a chance to register what’s going on. Clint pulls the gun from the guard’s belt, turning in the same movement to pistol-whip a second guard as he comes around the corner, and then he’s in another cell block.
It takes him a long second to spot her, tucked up between the little cot and the wall in the back corner of her cell. She doesn’t look up, not even when he shoots the control panel out to open the doors, and he feels a sickening cocktail of fear and worry coiling in his lower stomach as he runs to her side.
Clint catches her face in his hands, murmuring her name over and over as he tries to get her eyes to focus on him.
He did this. He got her into this. He let her get caught, advised her not to fight when they got arrested. He should have told her to run, should have told her to keep fighting, they wouldn’t have stood a chance against her, but he didn’t, and now...
“Clint…?” she whispers after a few seconds, blinking hard, and he pulls her into a crushing embrace as he lets out a breath in relief.
He’d been terrified of what they would do to her, with the lot of them as prisoners and her all but helpless. Ross had a bit of a reputation when it came to enhanced beings, after all. Unethical experimentation was something that he wouldn’t put past the man.
She isn’t looking too good, but anything is better than the awful pictures his mind had spent the past few days conjuring of her: pale and powerless and drugged unconscious, strapped down to an operation table as they prepared to cut her open.
Clint presses a gentle kiss to her forehead as she gasps in a trembling breath.
“I’m here. You’re safe now, Wanda, I’ve got you.”
It takes him a long moment to get the straitjacket off of her, and by then the others have made their way downstairs to the high-security cells. He watches nervously as Scott de-activates the collar, and snatches Wanda up in another hug the second it falls free, feeling his throat choke closed with emotion as the little witch sobs in relief, clinging to him like a lifeline.
“Come on,” Steve says gently, “let’s get out of here.”
Wanda is trembling against him, and Clint doesn’t bother trying to coax her to her feet as Steve leads the way. He simply sweeps her up into his arms like the child he can’t help but see her as, and carries her to their waiting jet, cradled against his chest.
As they board the aircraft, he swears to himself that he won’t let anyone hurt her ever again.
He doesn’t let himself think about how much of a lie that probably is.